When Les came to her office later that day, Audrey intended to fob her off. She wasn’t ready to talk about this yet, and not in the office. “No.”
“No, what? I’m here to talk the River Expressway contract.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“What did you think I wanted to talk about?”
“Things I don’t want to talk about.”
“All business. Except.” Les fished in her jacket pocket and put a key ring on the desk. Reece’s keys.
“Right, thanks.”
“Sure you don’t want to talk?”
Audrey nodded. She’d missed lunch and she felt light-headed.
“You know you owe him a face to face discussion.”
“We had that discussion this morning. He showed up out of nowhere and Mia treated him like her private treehouse and he—I can’t talk about it. I really can’t talk about it.”
“Okay.” Les’ eyes went to her notes. “I’ve got an issue with part two, clause four, c, plus the payment terms pegged on the US dollar.” She looked up, reached across the desk and put her hand over Audrey’s.
That’s all it took to break her resolve. “Tell me something good. Tell me I’ve done the right thing. I fell in love with a man who has a violent past and I don’t want that in my life or my daughter’s. He was a drug taker and a heavy drinker and he enjoyed hitting people in an illegal betting ring, he almost killed a man, took his eye, and he lied by keeping that past a secret.”
“Hooh.” Les sat back. “I like your not talking about it style.” She pushed her notes to the side and put her elbow on the desk, her chin in her hand. “I think you fell in love with a man who got lost and made a mistake and has spent years being someone different. I think he was a little wild, a lot wild for a short time, and it was partly substance abuse and partly the result of his childhood, or lack of childhood. But he might have continued down that path and he hasn’t. He’d not a violent man, Audrey, and I know you know that in your heart.”
Audrey closed her eyes. It was hard to look at Les’ truth. “I can’t trust that.”
“You trusted him every day for almost a year.”
She glared at Les and tapped the desk for emphasis. “But it was a lie.”
Les continued to slouch, continued to be the one in the right. “Apart from that one event, what did he do to make you think he wasn’t worthy of trust?”
“He’s an enormous hulk of guy who wants to work with children.”
“And you know as well as I do that’s a big dumb stereotype that makes every good dad suspect.” Les dropped her casual pose and straightened her spine. “Reece is a more natural father than you are a mother. I know you know all this, Aud.”
Yes, she knew it, but people you knew well could surprise you, they could do something you never expected from them. They could deny a daughter, leave her for dead. They could suddenly take an interest in the welfare of a child they fathered, or turn out to be capable of beating a man till he lost an eye. “He ripped a spy camera from my kitchen ceiling and he was so angry.”
“Well, yeah. Don’t you think that was reasonable? It was a violation of his privacy, even without you knowing about his hot button for being recorded.”
Audrey frowned. “You know about that too?”
“Polly told me. I saw Reece that night, remember. He wasn’t being a pumped up dickhead. He was worried about you. He was calm about the whole movie action man thing. I drilled Polly till he told me the whole story.”
Audrey turned her head to look out her window. There was no sun and it was blowing a gale and she felt hot and chilled at the same time.
“Reece isn’t anything like your dad, Aud.”
Audrey shook her head as she turned back to look at Les.
“He was young. He made bad choices. He recognised it, made amends and moved on.”
“I didn’t—”
Les didn’t want to hear her protests. “Your dad treated you like a nuisance, an interruption to his life. Then he closed a door in your face and refused to meet his granddaughter even when you might have died. That’s abuse and violence to me. Reece would sooner drive his precious Monaro off a cliff than do anything like that.”
She looked away again. She didn’t want Les to see how those words made her feel, vulnerable and resolved at the same time. Her parents failed any standard of care measure you could apply. They were the reason she’d designed her own single parent, absent father family, knowing the only person she could thoroughly rely on was herself.
“Mia and I are better off without Reece. He’s too young and he wants a family and I’m done with that. I’m lucky. I’ve already got what I wanted. And I can bring Mia up with love and the best opportunities I can buy.” She turned her head to catch Les fiddling with a button on the sleeve of her jacket.
“All right, that’s different.” Les left the button alone. “I can accept that. I think it’s sad you’d choose to be without Reece, knowing he loves you and Mia and he’s not a violent man, but I understand it.”
Audrey took a deeper breath. Her head was spinning, she needed to eat. “Can we work?”
It took an hour to fix the contract. She slammed down a sandwich and was still hungry. She attended four more meetings. At six pm she was shattered. Her first week back at work was over. Every bit of it as engrossing, engaging and exciting as she’d known it would be.
She drove home to find Mia fractious, Cameron eager to go home and Barrett missing. There was no food in the fridge, no milk for the morning and no one to blame except herself. Barrett wouldn’t think to get milk, and it wasn’t the nanny’s job though Reece had never left her without basic provisions. Cameron took off for the weekend, but would be back Monday.
Not fifteen minutes later, Audrey lost her temper with Mia and made her cry over nothing important, and the switch that lit the huge red neon sign that sat above her head and flashed world’s worst mum was flicked on. And under its illumination it was impossible to behave differently, so when Mia was out of bed before the hour was up because her toenails were too long, after being out of bed ten minutes before that because her ears couldn’t sleep, Audrey went rogue again.
Mia stood in the lounge room and insisted on having a pedicure. Audrey gave her the kind of look that made people at work doubt they weren’t drooling. “If you come out here again tonight there will be no park tomorrow.”
Mia produced tears immediately, and before they hit her cheeks she produced near incoherent fury. “I hate you. I want, Reece.”
“You can’t have him.”
Mia stamped her feet, her face red with outrage. “I want him now.”
She bent to get close to Mia. “Neither of us can have him. He is no good for us. He’s not coming back.”
She straightened up, covering her face with her hands. What was wrong with her, shouting at her child, saying horrid things?
Mia stopped crying, she held her breath then she threw herself on the floor and screamed and screamed and screamed and all Audrey could do was try to stop her hurting herself as she thrashed about. That’s how Barrett found them, both of them on the floor twisting in anger and grief; Mia vocalising her misery, and Audrey trying to simply breathe through lungs encased in the barbed wire trap of being a responsible grown-up, whose own needs came last.
“Goodness me, what’s going on?”
The tone of his voice, the severe part of Barrett’s presence that wasn’t kid friendly, stopped Mia’s carry-on instantly. “You should be in bed, Marvellous. Go right now and no more of this nonsense.”
Mia ran to her room as if she was being chased by dragons. Barrett followed her in and all was quiet. Audrey was right where he left her when he came back. She’d had no energy to move, no motivation to pretend to be anything other than an inadequate mother.
Barrett held out a hand and she took it, and he heaved her off the floor. “Does that happen often?” He wore a pained expression, as if he was cultivating a tumour.
“
No. Yes. Sometimes.” The very best thing about Barrett is that he wouldn’t judge her for something he was equally mystified about. “It’s what they do when they’re upset and they don’t understand. I’m an awful mother. I yelled at her because I’m upset and I don’t understand, so maybe you should put me to bed.”
He steered her to the lounge and they sat together. He put his arm around her shoulder and drew her into his lean body and said nothing until she’d begun to relax.
“She’s amazing, that child. She’s an alien implant from planet impossibly batty, but I can’t believe we made her and I let you convince me not to be part of her life.”
Audrey lifted her face to look in his eyes. “You didn’t take much convincing.”
“I am seldom wrong.” The rest was implication.
She put her hand in his. This morning he’d openly described himself as Mia’s father in front of Reece and Cameron. “We have a deal.” She didn’t think for a second he wanted to insert himself full-time in their lives, but she’d also never contemplated dying and leaving Mia alone either. “What are you thinking?”
“No touch parenting is what we agreed, but how would you feel about upping that to low touch? I wouldn’t interfere, I’m not moving back here, but Mia is part Barrett Baker-Brennan and I find that is more important to me now.”
“I freaked you out by nearly dying, didn’t I?”
He squeezed her hand. “And then some. I can’t treat that little bundle of bad smells and foul humour as a loose end anymore though. I can’t treat you that way either.” He smacked his head on the lounge back and blinked at the ceiling. “I’m going decidedly soft in my old age.”
“We have to talk about Mia’s guardianship. You know I’m good for financial support, but raising a child, you’d be an imbecile to pick me. I’ve always liked Merrill and Joe, if they agree to formalise the arrangement you already have, that would be fine by me. As long as it’s not your parents in the mix and we make that clear in a legal sense.”
The last tension in her body from the work week, from Mia’s tantrum, from missing Reece and being unsure about Barrett’s intensions, dissolved like sugar in hot water. “I agree. We’ll talk to them while you’re here.”
Barrett’s fingers played up and down her arm. “When Mia’s older I’ll be the one for field trips and extravagant useless gifts. And she’ll prefer me to you, which will annoy you no end. But I don’t know how to make her into a good person and you do. So our original deal stands, with two amendments: I want a low touch, remote care, as guided by you, relationship with my daughter, and I will make funds available for her welfare. She gets the best we can provide. Can you live with that?”
She nodded. She’d ask Les to write them an agreement to sign so it was official. “Now,” he released the hand she held. “This morning, that was a prime time episode of Dysfunctional Families part one. Is there going to be a part two? Will Reece be back?”
“No.” Her body might be melted but her voice was strong. “He walked away because I told him too.”
Barrett grunted. “How very obedient for a violent thug.”
“He’s not a violent thug.” That was the first time she’d said that aloud. She could at least be honest with herself. Les was right. There had been more threat in her father every day of her childhood than Reece had ever shown, and more care of her welfare.
“I know he’s not. He’s charming. I quite fancy him myself.” Barrett joggled her. “What are you doing sending him away?”
“He wants a family and I have mine. I don’t want another baby. I want my independence and control.” And that was the unvarnished, greedy, heartless truth.
“Oh, that is a relief.” Barrett slapped his hand on his thigh. “I always wondered if you’d want another one and there was no way I’d be able to refuse you. Especially seeing how incredible tantrum central is when she’s not possessed.” He joggled her again as if that would coach an answer out of her. “Why don’t you want another one?”
She didn’t need subterfuge or encouragement with Barrett. “I’m sometimes consumed by the idea that having a child alone and not being the main carer is the height of selfishness. I don’t regret it for a second, but it doesn’t feel right to do it again.”
“You do know that’s the very essence of parenthood in any society with an aristocracy. Get someone else to do the hard yards, including the child raising, ether paid or slave. This raise them yourself concept is a peasant thing and relatively modern for anyone with money.”
She laughed. “History aside, Barrett.”
“You’re doing fine as a parent. Mia is healthy and happy and bright as a thunderstorm. What more do you want? That little whirlwind in there could do with siblings. I had them. Ghastly. None of us got on. But I suppose they taught me something. But you didn’t, so I get it, and I am relieved, but if you change your mind and you want a matching set of kidlets, I’m there for you with the same conditions.”
Audrey snuggled into Barrett’s side. He’d been somewhere smoky. She could smell nutmeg, cinnamon and wood. A cigar. “I do love you.”
“Shame we didn’t fancy each other, but then you wanted the stable family thing and I like my riotous, promiscuous bachelor life.” He looked down at her. “Where was I? You look done in, Aud. I think you went back to work too early. You have visibly faded as the week went on.”
“First week back I knew it would be hard going. I need to stop thinking about Reece. It’s making me nauseous. I have some amazing new projects, I’m going to enjoy them, and once I get my head into work everything will be fine again.”
Barrett squeezed her into his side. “Terrible shame I didn’t fancy you.”
Now that his intentions about Mia were clear she couldn’t help but tease him. “I think you did fancy me.”
He lifted his hand and made a space between his first finger and thumb. “I think Reece fancies you to the very outer reaches of his soul, and I’m worried you’d reject that for yourself, and for Mia.”
He could be absent from her life for long stretches but Barrett knew her well enough to accurately trace the rumination of her heart. “You know I fancied you too.”
“Of course I do. But when I put you to bed, and leave you there alone, don’t take it the wrong way. Jeremy called.”
Audrey pulled away so she could see Barrett’s face clearly. He gave her the same smile Mia did when she was pleased with herself. “Well?”
“He grovelled.”
23: Blurred
One more, one more. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been smashed so one more. It didn’t matter any longer, it’s not like he had a job to go to, responsibilities. He had nothin’. He had starting again, and before that Reece intended to get hammered, because then he might forget for even a few hours what Audrey sending him away felt like.
He’d had been drinking steadily for most of the afternoon and he still felt like a cored apple, all the seed and stem, the heart of him removed and trashed. Polly had joined him for a while, but he’d left to be with Les so now Reece drank alone. He could still feel his feet and he didn’t think he had wings so he wasn’t yet drunk enough. He could still feel the heat in Audrey’s naked body as she took him inside her, as she moved her hands on his skin. He put his fingers to his lips because he could feel hers skating across them, latching on and sucking. He wasn’t near drunk enough, because he could smell her, aroused and impatient, over the yeasty beer and fried food coming out of the pub’s kitchen.
He should be legless and insensible by now. He should be asking Polly’s mate, Pat behind the bar to call him a cab, but he was still lucid enough to know Carrie had been watching him from across the room for half an hour. She’d come in with a group of friends, all chicks, no one else he knew. She looked different, glammed up, packs of makeup. The tightest pants, and killer boots, a top cut low and falling loose on her, no bra underneath. If she leant forward you’d see her tits. No accident that. No mistake about the kinds of looks sh
e was sending him either.
Pat put a bowl of French fries in front of him. He hadn’t ordered them but he picked at them anyway. He watched Carrie watching him. He didn’t smile or nod or wave or acknowledge her in any way, and she was the same with him, but it was on between them, and if he didn’t want that he needed to ask Pat for a cab.
He ordered another beer.
He watched Carrie flirt with him from half a dozen car lengths away, tossing her hair and laughing. She must wonder what he was doing here, drinking alone. Did she know about him and Audrey? Did he care? There was no him and Audrey. She was shacked up with the furniture removalist. He’d been a fuckwit to think he’d been more than sport and convenience for her. He was a free agent again. He could fuck whoever he wanted. He drank the beer and thought about walking across the room and putting his hand down Carrie’s shirt, filling it with her silicon breast while he ate her lipstick.
The fries were cold but he ate them. If he sat long enough she’d come to him. If she came to him then fuck Audrey, right, he’d fuck Carrie. He’d forget the way Audrey would hold his face in her hands and stare into his eyes as if she could read his thoughts that way. Forget the way she’d kiss every concern he had out of his head and make him tense with need at the same time. He wouldn’t think about how her most casual touch made him happy, how the sight of her in the morning, rumpled and cranky made his heart constrict. He’d forget the sound of her voice, the feel of her hair, the texture of her skin. He’d forget how pretty her tiny feet were, how delicate her hands, how wrapped in her conversation he was. He’d forget how she looked in lingerie and her ratty dressing gown. He’d fuck it all away in Carrie’s arms and all that would matter to either of them was the pleasure of the moment.
His phone rang. Not Audrey’s ringtone. Polly’s. “You still at the pub?”
He let the ambient sound answer for him.
“Mate, come have dinner with Les and me.”
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